


Moon Switch

by Original_Cypher



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, mention of others
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Original_Cypher/pseuds/Original_Cypher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the full moon and Stiles can't sleep. Something up. Something's up with <i>him</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moon Switch

Stiles kicked the covers off himself and flopped on his back, glaring at the darkened ceiling. He didn't even want to know what time it was, for it was sure to be well past midnight. He was exhausted, yet terribly restless. All day long, he had been fidgety.

For Stiles, to be fidgety wasn't a very rare occurrence, his temper and ADHD made him the poster boy for restless limbs. But he flailed a lot, exaggerated his moments. But he didn't feel like his muscles were crawling under his skin. Not usually.

It had showed so much during the day that Scott joked about what tonight was. Because, of course, it was the full moon. Maybe that was it, after all. Maybe he had always been a little affected. And that, combined with the worry for his friends and general anxiety for his future, and tomorrow, and his father and the math exam in a couple of days, all of that combined into a sleepless night.

He had no reason to be worried, though. They had gone to check in with Derek. Boyd and Isaac controlled the change good enough now and they would just camp out with the alpha. Erica preferred to be locked up just in case and so did Jackson. Danny stayed with him, because he usually didn't shift and appreciated the company. Stiles thought they were adorable, but only shared a mocking 'aww...' look with Derek at that, for fear to be pummeled by a dicky werewolf-jock if he mentioned anything out loud.

Everybody was fine. Scott was watched by Allison, even though there were no control issues there either.

Maybe it was just senior year getting to him.

And the spider monsters of last month.

And Erica's weird eye-fuck pregnancy scare.

And his dad's reaction when he found Stiles pulling out a knife out of a wolfed out Derek's back and saw him _heal_ six months ago.

Stiles huffed.

Maybe he shouldn't have been wondering why he was having a sleepless night but rather why he didn't have an ulcer yet.

His heart kept pounding, though. Not the usual rhythm of a teenager lying on his back, trying to sleep for the past four hours. He shivered, too hot and covered in cold sweat.

Alright. Maybe he didn't have werewolf instincts, but he sure had a gut feeling that was screaming at him. Clearly. Something was wrong.

He sat up with a hiccup and felt his heart rate kicking up another notch.

Something was up. Something was up, and, considering Stiles' general circumstances, it was likely to be unnatural.

Panting, he picked up his hoodie from beside the bed and stumbled to his window. He paused a brief moment. He would have to come back through the door, going out the window was already risking a broken ankle. But the way back in? No way. So he'd have to face his father and be guilt tripped for sneaking out. He bit his lip, considering. His stomach lurched and his decision was made. He slipped outside.

The chill of the night cooled his skin and allowed him to swallow. Then the glare of the moon made him skirmish. This was way too weird.

His urge to go to Derek's was a bit odd. But he needed.... he needed pack. And the pack was at Derek's. Derek would be pissed, but he would be more if he learned of this after the fact. On the off chance that Stiles was just getting food poisoning, he'd make a fool of himself and that would be it. Better yet, Derek would smell it on him and he could stop panicking over what else it could be.

Over the past year, Stiles had somehow carved himself a spot in the pack life. Not only because he went wherever Scott went, but because he came in handy. He was the gum shoe man. His, Lydia's and Danny's presence had also helped turn the wolves less feral. Especially Derek I-Will-Never-Trust-A-Human-Again Hale. The humans became a part of strategizing, researching, team building. Somehow, they'd started to be considered pack.

Stiles needed that comfort right now. It was animal instinct. He wanted to be left alone, curl up in a ball and wait until it went away, but he wanted to know that safety was close enough to touch. That he had his friends, his pack, near and caring.

Although, the caring? That only worked for some of them. If Jackson found him about to hurl, he would probably tape him.

Stiles ran all the way to the woods, through them, to the somewhat renovated Hale house. He stumbled and stopped on numerous occasions, certain he was about to throw up.

The queasy feeling came and went in waves, each one increasing in impact and he picked up pace every time his body allowed him to. Eventually he pitched forward on his hands and knees and his body quaked, coiling in on himself and roiling painfully. It felt like the worst dry heave he could imagine. Tears prickled his eyes.

“Derek...” he gasped, hauling himself up against a tree. “Derek!”

The spoken exclamation was all he could muster, yelling would have set something off again. But the house wasn't far. He could almost make it out from where he was, because he knew it was there. “Please.”

He stumbled closer to the house, unable to resume running. He felt so thankful he could cry when he saw Derek barreled out of the house, a worried look on his face. “Stiles! I can heart you heart from all the way across the-...” Derek was on him in an instant, steadying him.

Stiles' head was spinning. A wave of aggression burst inside him, sudden and shocking. “Something's wrong. Derek, something's...” he prayed Derek would know. Would reassure him.

But Derek looked taken aback, and made an aborted movement to let go of Stiles, and step away from him. He only stopped to catch him as Stiles swayed dangerously to one side. “Stiles, what-...” Derek's eyes roamed his face, his neck, his body. Oh, right. He hadn't zipped his hoodie. Why was Derek's hand lifting it off him? “I didn't...” Stiles looked at him in confusion, his vision swimming. Now that he had gotten to his pack, he felt safe, he was ready to pass out. “Stiles, who bit you?”

Stiles zeroed in on Derek's mouth, to make sure, in retrospect, that the alpha had indeed pronounced what he'd heard. “Kinky.” he snorted, then tried not to panic at the look in Derek's eyes. When Derek Hale appeared so lost that he almost looked like a boy again, it was hard not to.

“You smell like wolf. You're... you're turning. You're turned. … How...?”

Stiles stared at him for a long, uncomprehending while. “You saw me earlier. I'm not bitten. I'm not a werewolf!” The good thing about this? It had sobered him up quite a bit and he didn't feel like passing out anymore. Although, that throwing up thing? That was back.

Derek started pulling at his pants. _Commando!_ His brain supplied. He jerked away. “No one bit me! You gotta... you gotta have the scent wrong.”

“How do you-... Why do you smell like me?” Derek shook Stiles, and Stiles wanted to snort. He came here for answers and he was given more questions. And he was supposed to answer them. Yay.

“What?”

“You smell like pack. This isn't... I didn't turn you. You can't be... You can't be _mine_.” He looked in pain.

“Are you sure about that?”

Derek didn't let go of Stiles' shoulders when he snapped his head to the side to glare at Peter.

“Oh great. Your uncle's back in town. Again.” Stiles decided that, if he was going to be sick, he would aim for Peter Hale.

“Yes, I'm su-...!” Derek trailed off, his eyes going unfocused like he just thought of something.

Peter looked _smug_.

“Okay. You just said that, but you don't actually _look_ sure, buddy.” Stiles said, shaking Derek's shoulder. “Derek?”

“Did you, by any chance, forget what tonight is?”

“It's the full moon! We know. Hell, _I_ 've even been bouncing off the walls all day.”

That pulled Derek's sharp focus back to him. “You have?”

“It's not unheard of!” Stiles protested, feeling defensive.

“It's the Wolf Moon.” Peter purred, coming closer.

Stiles' brain traced beautiful whirls between the dots. “The Wolf... Oh, the Indian Calendar thing. Yeah, it's January. So what?”

“Why do you think it's called that way?”

“Because in the winter wolves get hungry. They howl for food.” Duh.

Peter smirked at Derek. “Hm. I've always loved folklore. Humans are so imaginative.”

“What the fuck is going on?!” Stiles yelled, pushing at Derek and trying to reign in the fit he wanted to throw to demand answers _right now_.

“Magic does a lot of funny things, Mr Stilinski.” Peter paused as he walked past them and gave him his creepiest smile yet. “Welcome to the fold.” Then he was gone, running out into the leaves.

Stiles stared after him, gaping, then turned back to find Derek looking at him in what looked like wonder. He looked stunned, but the worry had ebbed away from his face. It bore the expression Stiles would have if he'd been twelve and told werewolves existed for real. The 'this is so cool' that went with the impossible coming true.

Oh god. Peter had said... he was a werewolf.

What?

And Derek was looking at him... it made his heart beat, well, not faster, because if it did, it would break, but that tiny bit more painfully that told you something big was happening.

Maybe Derek had heard the change, or maybe his thoughts snapped back in focus, but his expression shifted in an instant, and he was running his hands through his hair. “Fuck, I gotta get you inside.” He said, shifting feet anxiously.

“So, I really am turning?”

This couldn't be happening. Stiles had gotten used to things that couldn't be happening happening anyway. But that took the cake.

“Yes.” Derek said in a breath.

Stiles brain bounced between 'mouahah score! I'm gonna be badass!' and 'Oh my god, help me, I'm gonna kill people!' and 'this is not _real_ , werewolves aren't...', and he started hyperventilating. Derek's vice grip on his bicep stopped him from pacing and, well, if he wanted proof that he was changed, that was one. He would have cried out at that pressure any other day. Right now, it was just... comforting. Grounding. What the hell? “You...” Derek managed to catch his eye and reel him back in. “Stiles, do you want to be mine?”

Stiles stared at him, mouth agape. “What's this have to do with-...?”

“Everything.”

“But shouldn't be focusing on me not...” he panted. “not killing people?”

“You're good. You're with me.” Derek said, confident. “Tell me.”

Stiles thought about his question. Did he want to be in the pack? In the furry part of the pack. In a way, he'd always wanted to be like them. Probably not for the same reasons Jackson did, though. Of course, the idea of being practically indestructible and super strong had its appeals, but he'd always come at it from a different angle. He had spent hours researching and reading about pack bonds and superhuman senses. Wondered about what it was like for them. What it felt like to be in a room full of people and be able to focus on one, identify them, when they're twenty seats and fifteen rows behind you. The answer was pretty obvious, even if he felt a sort of Xander-Harris-induced shame that he couldn't be content enough to be human. “Yeah. I'm... yeah. The sidelines tend to get dull after two or three maulings.”

Derek's quirked but he shook his head. “No, stiles this isn't... you smell like _me_ , you're bonded to _me_.”

Oh, _his_. Like _his_ his. He coughed. “So, maybe I have eyes, too.” he admitted reluctantly. No use, lying. The fucker had superhearing _and_ a hand gripping his elbow with a thumb on his pulse whether he had meant to put it there or not. His pulse must have had confirmed it already.

“Stiles.” Stiles looked away. He didn't want to look at Derek now. He was tried of the alpha coming up winner out of everything. The power of his feelings for the guy was something Stiles hadn't wanted to give him. He'd gotten used to it. He was a sucker for punishment. He always had the hots for the mean, dominant leader types. He would get over it. “Have you seen the movie Wolf?”

It threw Stiles a little. “The one with Jack Nichoslon and Michelle Pfeiffer? I've jerk-... I mean, I've seen it.”

“That movie almost got one thing right.”

Stiles fast forwarded it in his mind. “Please, tell me it's not the permanent actual wolf change, because that would _suck_.”

“Love.” Derek said.

Stiles almost choked to death right there. The word. In Derek's mouth. Just...

If Stiles hadn't had the worst day, he would have asked how Derek knew of the concept. And been serious.

“Wha-...?”

“There's no point denying it, Stiles. This wouldn't have happened without it.” Derek said.

And _oh my god!_ he was avoiding Stiles' eyes. Stiles felt mortified. And hurt. And stupid.

So, yeah, he may have had feelings for Derek, but... Love? It never crossed his mind. He was so thrown just hearing Derek use the word, he knew he'd never thought of associating the two in his head in any possible way. Because there was no possible way.

Except there were other places than his head, apparently, where _Derek_ and _love_ could be associated. Had been.

And now he was changing because of it.

And Derek knew.

And Derek wasn't looking at him.

All in all? A very crappy day.

He glared at the ground, away from them and wonder what was gonna happen now. His muscles were still crawling under his skin and he needed to be locked up. He wondered if Scott was reachable and if he could come up with something quick to help. He wondered if the pack would reject him now.

“Look, it's not-...”

“You wouldn't be turning if we weren't in love.”

Stiles' head snapped back, looking stricken. “ _We_?”

“Yeah, we.” Derek was smiling softly, sheepish, still avoiding his gaze. Wow, Stiles was going to need a moment to come back to that, later, when he woke up from this dream. “Shit.” Derek huffed and ran a hand through his hair again. “I wanted you with me so bad, I... I turned you.”

Stiles reeled, looking at Derek, looking all massive, and familiar, and yet... completely new and exposed and with this softness and guilt in his eyes. “I'm pack.” he said.

They'd said it before, but it took a whole new meaning.

This seemed to trigger something in Derek, he looked more serious, finally meeting his eyes. “Stiles.” he ducked his head for a nearly hysterical huff of laughter. “You're not _pack_. You're an alpha.”

“ _Excuse me?!_ ”

“You're...” Derek bit his lip and cringed, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. It made his shoulders roll, bare aside from the tank top. “You've turned as my mate.”

Werewolf. Love. Derek. Alpha. Mate. _Holy Shit!_ He could do this. He could totally do this. With Derek.

Do things. With Derek. “... oh.”

Derek pulled a hand out of his pocket and gestured vaguely between them. “You're okay with that?”

Stiles watched his hand, hovering in the air, and thought the whole conversation over. Even though it would take a while, _later_ , _much much later_ , to process, he was pretty sure he _understood_. He reached out, tentative, and grazed his fingertips against Derek's placating palm. “I guess....” he said, eyes glued to their hands. “It wouldn't be happening if I wasn't.”

Derek shuffled closer still, their hands bumping together, fingers not quite tangling. Stiles looked up into Derek's eyes and the alpha, oh god, his mate, smiled faintly, breathless. “True.”

Derek's other hand had slipped out of his pocket at some point and it now rested on Stiles' bare hipbone, under his open hoodie.

Usually, being exposed to someone's eyes roving over his face and body felt incredibly awkward to Stiles, but the look in Derek's eyes made him... relaxed. Hungry. Feral.

Or maybe that was the moon.

“If I'd known how easy it was to get you...”

“Hey. I'm not easy.” Derek hid a smile and gripped Stiles hard. Stiles' breath caught and his heart did a somersault. Why did this have to be so hot? “I'm very picky.” Derek growled softly, looming closer, towering.

Stiles snorted, suddenly at ease for some reason.

“I like a challenge.” Derek said again. Stiles shook his head and Derek took his lips.

It was a bit of a surprise, Derek's kiss, and he made a soft sound into it. Derek's hand squeezed convulsively at that, the others still dancing together.

Kissing Derek. He'd wanted it for so long. Imagined it in all and every way possible. From the most rom-com to the dirtiest mental picture that he had blushed, even while jerking off to it.

But the real thing?

Incredible.

Everything about tonight, about his life, was incredible. And he was completely fine with that.

When Stiles kissed back, Derek made a noise at the back of his throat and changed the angle, delving deeper. His hand slipped up Stiles' back and Stiles' cupped the back of his neck to get him closer. Get _more_.

Mate.

 _Oh my god_.

He did something he'd dreamed off countless times. He reached out, threaded his fingers in Derek's hair, eliciting a soft purr. And then he _pulled_.

The sound that came out of Derek at that was so unbelievably hot, Stiles was a little shocked they didn't catch on fire right there and then. Instantly, Derek had crushed him against his chest, breath coming ragged and short. Stiles slotted his mouth against Derek's neck and panted, trying not to _bite_. Not to claim. Not like this, not right now.

“Holy shit.”

Derek groaned, arm a dead lock around his back, hand spread wide and possessive between his shoulder blades. His other was leaving bruises on Stiles' other hip.

Stiles nuzzled up until he could kiss him again, and take his lower lip between his teeth. Okay, this biting thing was getting out of control.

“I think I'm gonna shift...” he gasped out.

“You're good. Just don't let go.” Derek sounded strained. Stiles wondered briefly if he meant of the control or of him. Derek kissed him again briefly and he pulled back with ravenous eyes. When their gazes met, he smiled.

“What?”

“Your eyes are... _were_ , red just now.” Stiles was going to spend days, months cataloging every possible private smile Derek had. And he was going to look at them up close like this, make them all appear and reappear. Because they were new, and they were awesome.

“Oh.”

“You wouldn't believe what it does to me.”

Well.

Actually. He was pretty sure he could hear Derek's heart beat and he definitely could feel the energy sparking around them. Almost like static electricity. That was probably his senses developing, feeling them and how they felt right now.

Sounds and smells started to assault him from everywhere. Everything. He could feel, see...

“Holy-...” Oh. And he had fangs now.

"We need to get you locked up." Derek huffed, pulling him towards the house.

"Yeah."

They rushed inside. Stiles felt dizzy at the realization that, he normally would have been running after Derek at that speed, but now... he'd just never walked that fast in his entire life.

Both Isaac and Boyd stared when they burst in, instantly aware of the shift. And possibly the state of them. “What the...?”

“We're taking the downstairs cage.” Barked, barely sparing them a glance, and he grabbed Stiles by the arm. “We'll see you tomorrow.” Stiles trailed back, his nose in the air. Boyd and Isaac. He could smell them. He could feel them. They were his. And he was theirs.

“That's just...” he babbled, as Derek threw them both in the large zoo lockup they had installed in his basement and slammed the door shut behind them. “...awesome.”

Derek crowded him against the wall, not touching, just caging. “You know so much about us already. What do you know about the mate bond?”

Stiles tried to gather his thoughts. “Well, it's... It's like pack, but more. Stronger. But same essence.” Derek nodded. “You feel each other. … I've read it can physically be felt. I dunno, you can tug on it to reach out to your mate, or something.”

A smile ghosts over Derek's lips at that. “You've been doing it all day.”

“I what?”

Was Derek seriously caressing his hairline, now? “I've been bouncing off the walls all day, too. And it felt... it wasn't me.”

Stiles blushed and looked down, Derek took the opportunity to explore Stiles' longer mop of hair. “Oh. Sorry.”

“No, Stiles.” The hand slipped down to settle on his chest. “I didn't know what it was. I should've.” He paused. “Can you feel that?”

Stiles suddenly stumbled forward and snarled, jaw snapping. Derek's hand slammed him back against the wall. Then, just as quickly, Stiles hiccuped and shifted back to human form. “What was that?”

“I'm sharing my control.”

While he patted his way out of the confusion of his thoughts, he realized his hands had found their place at Derek's waist so simply that he hadn't noticed it. “Wait, was I attacking you?”

“No.” Derek pressed his face to Stiles' cheek briefly and pulled away. “You wouldn't have. No matter how out of control you get, you'll never hurt me. Or your pack. _Our_ pack. If you do, it's because you mean to. Like the alpha wounds.”

 _Our pack._ Jesus. “Alpha wounds?”

“When you're punishing, or teaching, you can decide that the wounds you leave will last longer.”

“You've done it to Scott, once. When you fought.”

“Yes.”

“Why would you?” His fingers play along Derek's arm, itching to rip his stupid tank top off and get to more skin.

“You won't need to. Our pack is solid. We don't have renegades or psychotics.”

“Yay.”

“The alpha wounds also serve another purpose. While you wouldn't attack your pack even if you lost your mind, they might. It a complete moon lust, they might go after you and you need to stop them.” Derek spoke, Stiles watched his lips move, fingering the edges of Derek's tank.

“Hm.”

“You're not gonna shift, I'm gonna keep sharing my control.” _Why the cage, then, you kinky bastard?_ ”And later, when it's not the full moon, you'll learn to do it for yourself. It'll be easier, since you can experience mine.” His thumb stroked Stiles' skin. “You're already putting in a lot of it, actually.”

Somewhere in his mind, Stiles wondered if controlling his ADHD all his life was part of that.

Derek stood one hand on Stiles' hip, the other hanging by his side. Now that he knew, he could feel that the control he was maintaining wasn't his own. It _tasted_ like Derek.

He also though that the gap between their body was a blasphemy.

“Anything else I need to know right now?”

Derek shook his head.

“Oh, good, it means we can go back to making out.” He said, unceremoniously grabbing Derek's neck and pulling him closer. “Cause that was the best part of the whole thing.”

Derek came but resisted the last inches. “Stiles, maybe-...”

“Oh, come on-...” Stiles huffed. “Do we have to talk about our _feelings_?” he whined. “ _The moon_ had to intervene because we _fail_ so much at it!” He smiled coyly. The lunar effect was making him confident and wild and... incredibly horny. It was such a rush to have Derek plastered against him, all hard and... oh, hard too. Hey, cool. “Can we get on with the good stuff yet?”

“I was gonna say...” Derek said, snaking fingers around Stiles' writs and snapping them into vice grips. “Are you _sure_? It's the full moon, I don't know... It might get a little rough. If you-...”

Stiles snorted and pushed off the wall, tackling Derek to the ground. “Bitch please, you can't hurt me.” He leered down at Derek, who looked both shocked and aroused at Stiles straddling his chest. He made one more fantasy come true and clawed his way through the cotton of Derek's top. “I'm a fucking werewolf!”

**Author's Note:**

> So... since yesterday or early this morning depending on where you are, was the Wolf Moon, and I couldn't sleep because full moons make me bounce off the walls... I thought this was appropriate.


End file.
